PR 4057 
.B2 D3 
1829 
Copy 1 



)AMON AND PYTHIAS, >^ 



A PLAY, 

IN FIVE ACTS. 



BY RICHARD SHIEL, ESQ. 

AUTHOR OF " THE APOSTATE," &o. 



AS PUttFORMEU AT THE 

CHESTNUT-STREET THEATRE, 

I'HILADELPHTA. 



PHILADELPHIA : 

SAL & MACKENZIE, No. 201 CHESTNUt-STREK T. 
Mifflin & Parry, Printers. 

1829. 



< 



i 



')■ 



wf 



DRAMATIS PERSONS 



Damon, 
Pythias, 

Dionysius, 

Damocles, 

Philistius, 

Procles, 

Lucullus, 



Philadelphia, 
Mr. Cooper. 
Mr. Duff. 
Mr. Greene. 
Mr. Darley. 
Mr. Wheatley 
Mr. Hathwell 
Mr. Porter. 

Mr. BiGNAlL. 

Master Burke. 






Damon's child, 0->sv«.*^ ^yivo^Ol 



Senators, Guards, Servants, &c. 

Calanthe, ' D^'p' -r'tui . Mrs. Duff. 
Hermion, ^ITyJi) ^yv-iVn^ • Mrs. Anderson. 
Arria, . />>^^^j U ^^^;^ A^Mrs. Jefferson, 

Scene — Syracwsk- 



6h 49- 




DAMON AND PYTHIAS. 

/^5:> ACT I. 

0CEITX I. — A Street iv^ Syracuao. 

DioxYsius and Pkocles discovered^ a» expecting ti- 
dings. 

Dion. Ere this the senate should have closed its 
councils, 
And chosen the new year's president. I pant 
To know their meeting^s issue. 

Proc. Good my lord, » 

There's but light doubt a great majority 
Of easy purchased voices will be found 
For your fast friend, Philistius. 

Dion. On his choice 
Hangs the long chain of complicated purpose 
Has ta'en such time in linking. Plague upon 
The law, that from the senate-house excludes 
All soldiers, like ourselves, or we should soon 
Outvote all difficulty ! (Senators cross the Stag'e.) Ha! 

methinks 
The assembly hath dissolved. 
By Jupiter, 

Philistius' self doth hasten to us here. 
And with him Damocles ! How now, my friend ? 

Enter PuiLisntrs art J Damocx.es. 

Art thou the president ? 

Phil. I am, my lord. 
Chosen by a large majority to take 
The honourable office : in the which 
I may, at least, requite the benefits 



yIhias. 



4. ^ DAMON AND PYTHIAS. [Act I 

Which you have heaped upon me. 

Dam. Yes, my lord, 
We have at last attain'd the 'vantage ground. 
Whence your broad view may take a boundless pros- 
pect. 

Dion. 'Tis a bold step upon the mountain-path, 
Wherein I have long been toiling. I no longer 
Doubt of the senate's inclination. 
What say the soldiers ? Thou hast hinted to them 
That we confided to thee ? 

/Proc. Yes, my lord ; 
And they are ready for it. 

Dion, Go thou hence, 
And speak to them again ; disperse more gold; 
*Twill give a relish to thine eloquence 5 
And, hark ye, lead th em this w ay^j^j^jhalLh ere 
Await t hy co mi n^^^/ H a ! ^eKoIHTm air, "^ 

rW h ere a m ajeince agl e floats above 
'The northern turrets of the citadel ; ^ 

And, as the sun breaks through yon rifted cloud 
His plumage shines, embath'd in burning gold 
And sets off his regality in heaven. 
Thou knowest how readily the multitude 
Are won by sucl > brig ht augury-: ;::jaake-Jis , 
-X^^^vii^ationjj^haitetheeT {Exit Proclea 

Philistius, give me your hand. I thank you : 
Things look in smiles upon me. It was otherwise 
But a year since, when I impeach'd the magistrates 
For treasonable dealing with the foe. 
And the senate hurl'd me from my topmost height 
Of popularity. 

Dam. Degraded you 
From power, and office. 

Dion. Ay ! at the appeal 
Of that stale pedant, the Pythagorean, 
Who hangs out his austerity for sale. 
In frowns, clos'd hps, and pithy sentences. 

Dam. Thou speakest of Damon? 

Dion. Ay, mine enem}'^. 
The patriot, and philosophic knave, 
Who hath been busy with my purposes, — 



Act 1] DAMON AND PYTHIAS. i 

And one day sliall not smile at it. He came 

Into tlie senate-house, with a fierce crew 

Of his associates in philosophy. 

Silent and frowning-, at his back; he rail'd 

And had his trivimpi). — Tinges have alter'd since; 

And to the mould and fashion of my will, 

Shall yet take stranger sliape, when, Damocles, 

These long-trained lawgivers, these austere sages, 

Shall find I can remember. 

Dam. Let them feel it. 

Dion. In all that biting bitterness of heart 
Which clings, and gnaws, by inches, to its object, 
More keen, because a first essay hath fail'd. 
In shame and suffering, failed, thus have I sped • 
My work, in silence, on. It did become 
A thought inwoven with my inmost being. 

Dam. The steps 
Which since most visible you have ascended, 
Must have requir'd much effort? 

Dion. Yes ! to have flung 
Into the-siwde of public disrepute 
The very men whose voices were most loud 
In working out my ruin ; — after that. 
To gain the army's suffrage ; — to be chosen 
Its head and general, that was another; 
To have won that very senate 

Phil. Yet pause, my lord, — 
Howe'er complying you have hitherto 
Found that assembly, and though most of them 
Are plung'd into your debt, beyond all means 
Of their redenjption, yet may there be still 
Some sudden reluctation to the last 
And mightiest of all hopes. 

Dion. The garrison 
Is not a bad ally methinks ? 

Phil. The war 
J^ath ta'en the flower of all the troops from Syracuse, 
And Damon heading the vile populace 

Dion. I came from Agrigentum, to entreat 
Arms, corn, and money, from the senators, 
While I myself have purposely delay'd 



6 DAMON AND PYTHIAS. [Act 1 

The granting them; meantime, the city is filled 
With many thousands of my followers. 

Phil. But, are they not unweapon'd? 

Dion, This city of Syracuse — 
It hath a citadel ? 

Fhil. True, sir,— it hath. 

Dion. And therein, as I deem, its national stock 
Of corn, and arms, and gold, is treasur'd ? 

Phil. True. 

BiQ7i. The citadel is not impregnable; 
And when it is mann'd, and order'd to my will, 
What of these frothy speech-makers ? 

{A shout is .heard abroad. 

. Phil. My lord. 
The soldiers shout for you. 

Bwn. Procles, I see. 
Is at his work.— Good . amocles, Philistius, 
As you are senators, retire ye hence ; 
It were not meet that you should look to have been 
Parties to any act, which afterwards 
May grow into discussion. — And, Philistius, 
One effort more among our city friends ; 
I will forewarn thee of the time to call 
The senators together — Yet, I mean not 
Exclusively to trust them, good Philistius ; — 
Sure means sure ends. — 1*11 have a friend or two 
Within my call, to help them. — If their councils 
Become too knotty for unravelling, 
A sharp sword may be useful. — Fare you well. 

[Exeujit Philistius and Damocles. 
Voices ( Without.) Ay, to the citadel — The citadel. 

Enter Procles and Soldiers. 

Dion. Who talks of moving to the citadel ? 

1st Soldier. It is himself, — huzza ! 

All. Huzza ! our general ! 

Dion. Good friends, I thank ye. Procles, art thou 
here ? 
Hast thou distributed to these much-wrong'd men. 
The trifling bounty which I charg'd thee with .? 

Proc. They have it, noble general. 



Actl] DAMON AND PYTHIAS. 

Dion. My friends, 
'Twas a poor offering and beneath your taking \ 
But, as yourself do know, my private purse 
Is light as that of any other veteran. 
Within the walls of Syracuse. Speak, Procles, 
Who talks of moving on the citadel ? 
AIL We, Dionysius, we. 
Froc. Yes, these brave spirits. 
Indignant at the senate's heedlesspesa 
Of you, and them, and of the general honour- 
1st Soldier. Ay, we will spurn their yol 
have no master 
But our most noble general Dionysius ! 
Dion. Give me not cause, my friends, to deem my- 
self 
Dishonour'd and endanger'd in your love ; 
For, as I am a soldier and a man. 
Could I believe that any other thought 
Engag'd you to possess the citadel. 
Save your anxiety for the soldier's weal, 
And the state's safety,- 1 would raise my hand. 
In supplication 'gainst your enterprize ; — 
But, as the time now urges, and cries out 
For sudden muster, and organization 
Of the brave thousands, who but wait for swords. 
To join your ranks, and rush with you to glory, - 
And yet the senate, — 

Proc. Speak not of the senate : 
We do renounce its service and despise it, 

Dion. It was my thought to say, if they object, 
We may submit it, as a needful step, 
Claiming allowance in the exigency 
Of the occasion. 

Proc. They shall not control it. 
We seek not for their judgment of our act. 
All. On, general, on ! 
Dion. When did ye call, 
That I replied not with my word and deed, 
My heart and hand ? Even as you say it, on, 
On, fellow-soldiers, to the citadel ! 
And let vour swords be out, more in the show 



8 DAMON AND PYTHIAS. [Act I 

Of what ye are, soldiers and fighting'-men, 
Than with a harmful purpose. Let us on ! 
Ad. On to the citadel ! the citadel ! 
[Exeunt, toith cries, imil brandishing their swords. 

Scene II. — Another Street. 

Enter Damox. 

Damon. Philistius, then, is president at last, 
A n d Di onysius has o'ersway'd it ? Well,^ 

j|«H|bliat I expected: 'i'here is now 

IHSProlic virtue left in Syracuse. 
Wnat should be hop'd from a degenerate, 
Corrupted, and voluptuous populace, 
When highly-born and meanly-minded nobles 
Would barter freedom for a great man's feast, 
And sell their country for a smile ? The 'stream, 
With a more sure eternal tendency 
Seeks not the ocean, than a sensual race 
Their own devouring slavery. I am sick, 
At my inmost heart, of every thing I see 
And hear ! Oh Syracuse, I am, at last, 
Forc'd to despair of thee ! And yet thou art 
My land of birth, — thou art my country still ; 
And like an unkind mother, thou hast left 
The claims of holiest nature in my heart, 
And I must sorrow for, not hate thee ? (Shouts) Ha ! 
What shouts are these ? *Tis from the citadel 
The uproar is descending. - 

E7iter LxjcuLLus. \ 

Speak, LucuUus, 
What has befallen ? 

JjUc. Have you heard the news ? 

JJamon. What news ? 

Luc. As through the streets I pass'd, the people 
Said ihat the citadel was in the hands 
Of Dionysius. 

Damon. The citadel 
In Dionysius' hands r What dost thou tell me ;• 
How, — whcref()rc, — when? In Dionvshis' h.ands f 



Act 1] DAMON AND PYTHIAS. 9 

The traitor Dionysius ? — Speak, Lucullus, 
And quickly. 

Luc, It was said, that by rude force. 
Heading a troop of soldiers, he has ta*en 
Possession of the citadel, and seiz'd 
The arms and treasure in*t. [Exit 

Damon. I am thunder stricken ! 
The citadel assaulted, and the armory 
In that fierce soldier's power ! (Shouts) Again ! By 

all 
The gods on high Olympus, 1 behold 
His standard waving o'er it, — and they come. 
His most notorious satellites, high heaped 
With arms and plunder ! Parricidal slaves. 
What have ye done ? 

Enter Pb.oci.es and Soldiers. 

Soldiers. For Dionysius ! Ho ! 
For Dionysius ! 

Damon. Silence ! obstreperous traitors ! • 
Your throats offend the quiet of the city ; 
And thou, who standest foremost of these knaves, 
Stand back, and answer me, — a senator. 
What have you done ? 

Proc. But that 1 know 'twill gall thee. 
Thou poor and talking pedant of the school 
Of dull Pythagoras, I'd let thee make 
Conjecture from thy senses : But, in hope 
*Twill stir your solemn anger, learn from me, 
We have taken possession of the citadel, 
And 

Damon. Patience, ye good gods! a moment's pa- 
tience. 
That these too ready hands may not enforce 
The desperate precept of my rising heart — 
Thou most contemptible and meanest tool 
That ever tyrant used! 

Froc. Do you hear him, soldiers ? 
First, for thy covyard railings at myself, 
And since thou liast called our Dionysius tvrant, 
Here, in the open streets of Syracuse, 



10 DAMON AND PYTHIAS. {Act I 

I brand thee for a liar, and a traitor ! 

Damon. Audacious slave ! 

Proc. Upon him, soldiers, — 
Hew him to pieces ! 

Soldiers. On him ! 

Enter Pythias, as they rush upon Damon, 

Pyth. Back, on your lives ! 
Cowards, damn'*d treacherous cowards, back I say ! 
Do you know me ? Look upon me : Do you know 
This honest sword I brandish ? You have seen it 
Among the ranks of Carthage ; would you now 
Taste its shrewd coldness in your quaking selves ! 
Back ! back ! I say. He hath his amour on — 
I am his sword, shield, helm ; I but enclose 
Myself, and my own heart, and heart's blood, when 
I thus stand before him. 

Damon. False hearted cravens ! 
We are but two — my Pythias, my halved heart! — 
My Pythias, and myself; but dare come on. 
Ye hirelings of a tyrant ! dare advance 
A foot, or raise an arm, or bend a brow. 
And ye shall learn what two such arms can do 
Amongst a thousand of ye. — My good friend. 
The gods have sent thee to me — Who had deem'd 
To find thee here from Agrigentum ? 

[Soldiers advance. 

Pyth. Off! 
Off, villains, off ! — Each for the other thus. 
And in that other, for his dearer self. 
Why, Procles, art thou not asham'd— for I 
Have seen thee do good work in battle time — 
Art not asham'd, here on a single man 
To rush in coward numbers ^ Fie upon thee ! 
I took thee for a soldier. 

Proc. For thy sake, 
Who art a warrior like ourselves, we spare him — 
'Twas a good star of his that led thee hither 
From Agrigentum, to lift up thine arm 
in the defence of that long robe of peace 
Wherein he wraps his stern philosophy, 



Actl] DAMON AND PYTHIAS. 11 

Come, teach him better manners. Soldiers, on,~ 
Let us to Dionysius. [Exeunt Proclea and Soldiers, 

Pyth. Art thou safe 
From these infuriate stabbers ? 

Damon. Thanks to thee, 
I am safe, my gallant soldier, and fast friend : 
My better genius sent thee to my side. 
When I did think thee far from Syracuse. 

Pyth. I have won leave to spend some interval 
From the fierce war, and come to Syracuse, 
With purpose to espouse the fair Calanthe. — 
The gods have led me hither, since I come 
In time to rescue thee. 
How grew this rude broil up ? 

Damon. Things go on here 
Most execrably, Pythias. Bnt you are come 
To be a husband, are you not .? 

Pyth. To-morrow 
I call my soft Calanthe wife, 

Damon. Then, Pythias, 
I will not shade the prospect of your joys 
With any griefs of mine. I cry you mercy — 
These are experiments too over nice 
For one that has a mistress, and would wed her 
With an uncut throat. I have wish*d myself, 
That to the blest retreats of private life 
My lot had been awarded ; — every hour 
Makes one more sick and weary with the sense 
Of this same hopeless service of a state, 
Where there is not of virtue left 
To feed the flarings of our liberty. 
But, my soldier, 

I will not make thee a participant 
In my most sad forebodings. Pythias, 
1 say 'twere better be the Persian's slave, 
And let him tread upon thee, when he would 
Ascend his horse's back, than— yet, not so, 
I am too much gall'd and fretted to pronounce 
A sober judgment, and the very mask 
Of freedom is yet better than the bold, 
Uncover'd front of tyranny. — Farewell ! 



13 DAMON AND PYTHIAS. [Act I 

Pyth, Nay, I must follow thee, and find the cause 
That so perturbs thy spirit. 

Damon. How, sir! you have 
A mistress here in Syracuse, and, look, 
Herself comes forth to meet you. 

Pyth. Where! Calanthe ! 
Nay, 1 behold her not — you mock me Damon. 

Damon. {Pointing to a different side of the ttage.) 
Look this way, sir. 

Pyth. It is herself, indeed. 
My own, my fond, betrothed one. 

Eiiter Calanthe. 

Cal. My dear. 
But most neglecting Pythias ! 

Pyth. By the birth 
Of Venus, when she rose out of the sea, 
And with her life did fill the Grecian isles 
With everlasting verdure, she was not. 
Fresh from the soft creation of the wave, 
More beautiful than thee ! 

Cal. Thou fondly thinkest 
To hide thy false oblivion of the maid. 
That with a panting heart awaited thee. 
Now, Pythias, I do take it most unkind. 
That thou to friendship hast made sacrifice 
Of the first moment of thy coming here. 

Pyth. Nay, chide me not ; for I was speeding to 
thee. 

Cal. Soon as I heard thou wert in Syracuse^ 
I ran at once to hail thee with a smile. 
Although my mother would have staid me. 

{Pythias kisses her hand.) 

Damon. ( fVho is lost in thought.) 
Yes, 
They must at least be safe. 

Pyth. And how, Calanthe^ > 
Fares thy dear mother ? 

Cal. Happy in the thought 
If she must needs (as she must) part with me, 
It is at least to thee. 



Act I] DAMON AND PYTHIAS. 13 

Pyth. And my poor father ? 

Cal. Time has almost shut up his faculties, 
And he can scarce distinguish any voice 
That is address'd to him. The day is pass'd 
Upon his couch ; at evening, in a chair. 
He is carried to the terrace-walk before 
The threshold of his mansion, where the wind, 
Fresh from the sea, plays with his locks of gray, 
Till pleas'd at last he smiles. That gentle smile. 
As 'tis the first denotement of a thought 
In speechless infanc3\ 'tis the last sign 
Of the expiring mind. 

Pyth. My soft Calantlie 
Must be a tender on infirmity. 
Before her time. But where's my silent friend ^ 
Why, Damon, what's the matter ? 

Damon. {Aside, a?id siili losi in thought.) 
One brave blov.^ 

And it were done ! By all the goJs, one blow. 
And Syracuse were free ! — Pythias, is't you ? — 
I cry you mercy, {to Cal.) fair one — Pythias, 
You are to be married. Haste thee, Pythias, — 
Love, and fight on. Thine arms to Mars, thy heart 
Give to his paramour. — Take thou no care 
Of the politician's study — 'twill turn pale 
Thy cheek, make thee grow sick at nature's love- 
liness, 
And see in her pure beauty but one blank 
Of dismal, coloui'less, sterility. 
Calanthe, look to it — let him not play 
The statesman's sorry part. 

Pyth. Damon, you let 
The commonwealth o'erfret you. I was about 
To pray you to cur wedding. 

Damon. I intended, 
Unbidden, to be there. 

Pyth. From friendsliip's eyes 
I'll win addition to my happiness. 
Calanthe, come — I should be half in fear, 
To seem thus loving of thee, in the sight 
Of this philosopher. 

B 



14 DAMON AND PYTHIAS. [Act I 

Cal. Nay, he pretends 
To be by half more rugged, and more wise. 
Than he hath any right to : I have seen him, 
(Have I not, Damon ?) looking at his wife, 
When he imagin'd none was there to mark 
The proud Pythagorean, with an eye 
Filled with tenderness : — and his young boy too. 
That seems Aurora's child, with liis fine face, 
Stirr'd his stern visage to complacency. 
Come, come, we will be revenged upon you both : 
I swear, his wife and I will be accounted 
Your rivals in the godlike quality 
Your lordly sex would arrogate its own 
Peculiar privilege, and show the world 
The unseen, and yet unrumour'd prodigy, — 
The friendship of a woman, 

lExeu7it Pythias and Calanthe, 

Enter Lucullus. 

Damon. Hark thee, Lucullus — 
My wife and child must instantly depart 
From Syracuse ; — you must attend them hence. 
Unto my villa, on the mountain side. 

Xmc. Alas, my lord ! 

Damon. Why dost thou droop ? 

Luc. My lord, 
I was your slave ; you gave me liberty; 
And when I see you peril'd — 

Damon. Nay, Lucullus, 
Where is the warrant for thy fear ? 

Luc. I read 
You are engag'd in some dread enterprise, 
Filse you would not deny them to your sight : 
You fear the leaning ruin may fall down 
Upon their dearer heads. 

Damon. I charge you, sir. 
No prying in my purposes. — Take care 
You speak not to my wife of any thing 
May stir her apprehensions— see, she comes — - 
Beware thy looks betray thee. 



Act I] DAMON AND PYTHIAS. 15 



Enter Hermiow. 

ffevm. Art thou safe, 
Damon, art safe ? 

Damon- You are not a widow yet. 
Herm. For shame to talk of such a thing. I have 
heard 
Of thy rude quarrelling with that same fierce, 
And overbearing soldier. But thou art safe. — 
Proud men ! how reckless of the faithful hearts 
That doat on you, — that hang their weakness on ye! 
How reckless of us in your bustling hours 
Of occupation and despatch, ye are ! 
Ah, then you think not of the pining mate. 
Left in her solitude, with nought to do. 
But weep for your return, and chide the gods, 
That make your n>inds so stern and enterprising. 

Bci0)n^ y(iri»ion,J,th*nk^ t]ie city^ fulsome air 
Likes not our boy :— The colour in*Hi9*chfeek 
Hath Ipst its rich and healthful purity. 

Herm. Nay, you are wrong there; — 'tis like a young 
peach. 
Or yet more fresh and blooming. 

JDamoji. Hermion, 
I have resolv'd that you and he shall go 
Unto my villa, near to Syracuse. 
Herm. But you will come with us ? 
Damon. Hermion, you know 
My occupation forbids that wish. 
Luc. My lord — 

Damon. Forbear sir — yet I cannot go, — ■ 
I mean, I cannot go immediately — 
The state affairs luy hold upon me. You 
Must hence before me thither. 
Herm. Damon — 
Damon. Come, 
Look not thus sadly. 

Herm. I have learn'd too well 
The usage of obedience, to inquire 
Into your purposes. 



J6 DAMON AND 1*YTHIAS. [Act I 

Damon. Hermion, I'll take 
Occasion oft to visit you — to morrow — 
If possible, to morrow. 

fferm. Will you so? 
Nay, will you truly promise it ? 

JDamon. I do. — 
Hermion, you must be sudden — you must despatch.— 
Come — -but I'll see my boy before you go. — 
Hermion, he is our only one. — That child 
Is made of thy own heart, and mine — I charge thee. 
Have thou a care, in all vicissitudes 
Of private or of public incident. 
To form in him, what will out-top the height 
Of the best laurel-tree in all the groves 
Of the Academy,-— an honest man. {^Exeunt. 

S*CEifE I. — A Chamber in Arria''s House, 
Enter Pythias and Calanthe. 

Pyth. So, my Calanthe, you would waste the moon 
Of Hymen in this lonely spot ? 

Cal. In sooth 
I would, for 'tis the fairest place in Sicily : 
A dell, made of green beauty; with its shrubs 
Of aromatic sweetness, growing up 
The ragged mountain's sides, as cunningly 
As the nice structure of a little nest. 
Built by two loving nightingales. The wind. 
That comes there, full of rudeness from the sea, 
Is luU'd into a balmy breath of peace, 
The moment that it enters ; and 'tis said 
By our Sicilian shepherds, that their songs 
Have in this place a wilder melody. 
The mountains all about it are the haunts 
Of many a fine romantic memory ! 



Act 11] DAMON AND PYTHIAS. It 

High towers old JEtna, with his feet deep clad 

In the green sandals of the freshful spring ; 

His sides array'd in winter, and his front 

Shooting aloft the everlasting flame. 

On the right hand is that great cave, in which 

Huge Polyphemus dwelt, between whose vast 

Colossal limbs the artful Grecian stole. 

On the other side. 

Is Galatea's dainty dressing-room, 

"Wrought in the living marble ; and within 

Is seen the fountain where she us'd to twine 

The ringlets on her neck that did ensnare 

The melancholy Cyclop. — But what care you, 

A soldier, for such fantasies ? I know 

A way that better shall persuade you to 

That place for our sweet marriage residence — 

There Damon hath his villa — Ha ! you seem 

Determin'd by the fast proximity 

Of such a friendship, more than all my love. 

Pyth. Does Damon dwell there ? 

Cal. No ; his Hermion 
And his young boy — O ! 'tis a beauteous child ' — 
Are sent there from the city's noxious air, 
And he doth visit them, whene'er the state 
Gives him brief respite. Tell me, Pythias, 
Shall we not see the Hymeneal moon 
Ghde through the blue heavens there ? 

Pyth. My own ador'd one, 
If thou should'stbid me sail away with thee 
To seek the isles of the Hesperides, 
I would, with such a pilots spread my sail 
Beyond the trophies of great Hercules, 
Making thine eyes my cynosure ! 

Enter Lucullus. 

How now, Lucullus ? 

Luc, Where is my lord ? I was inform'd 
That I should find him here— a senator 
Bade me require him instantly. 

Pyth. He waits here. 
To attend us to the temple, and if things 
B 2 



18 DAMON AND PYTHIAS. [Act 11 

Of weight demand his eur, you'll find him yonder 
In the pale cypress-grove. [ Exit Lucullus, 

Nothing I hope 

Has happen'd to withdraw him from the rite 
That makes thee mine. 

Cal. I hope not. — Who is this 
That seeks him out so earnestly ? 

Fyth. He is 
A brave Italian, whom the Carthage pirates 
Seiz'd on his native coast, and sold a slave. 
Damon hath given him back his liberty. 
But yet, of his free will, he tends him still ; 
And more than very freedom doth he hold. 
The right to serve a man that is fine touch*d 
With a most merciful spirit. 

Cal. Nay, my Pythias, 
Make not your friend's high qualities for aye 
The burthen of your eloquence — In sooth, 
I should be almost jealous of a steed 
I saw you pat with a too liberal hand ; 
And — ha ! he comes. 

Enter Damon. 

Damon. Pythias — {aside) I must not let 
Calanthe read my purpose. Calanthe, 
The blessing, and the bounty of the gods 
Be with you, over you, and all around you, 
Thou gentle girl!— Pythias, a word with you. 

(aside to Pyth.) 
What heard I, think you, Pythias, even now ? 

Cal. There has been Pythias, all this forenoon, 
Would speak to me of nothing but the esteem 
In which he held thee, Damon. 

Damon. What ! no word 
Touching the quality of that foolish love 
He bears the fair Calanthe? (To Pyth, aside.) Wq 

are undone, 
Wc, and our wretched city, Pythias ! 

Pyth. (aside to Damon,) What dost thou mean ? 

Cal. No, not a single word— 
Thou, thou alone mad'st up his eulogy. 



Act II] DAMON AND PYTHIAS. 19 

Damon. What think'st thou, Pythias ? A king ? 

{aside.) 
Pyth. (aside to Damon.) Wliat ! who ? 
Dam. (to Cal.) Heed not 
His silken praises of me. (ToPyth. aside.) Dionysius 
Is to be crowned in the senate-house. 
Pyth. Can it be possible ? 
Da7n. I say thee, yea — 
His soldiers line the streets. 
Pyth. But will the senate, 
The coward senate, sanction it ! Will none 
Oppose him in it ? 

Dam. Oppose him .' — (aloud.) all the gods 
So help, or strike me, as I will oppose him ! 
Let Etna vent her furies on his side, 
And I alone — Ha ! I forgot my dagger. 

[Searahing- about him. 
Cal. How now, my Pythias ? 
Pyth. He is mov'd, Calanthe, 
By some most urgent matter of the state ; 
Nay, heed him not ! 

Damon. Pythias, as I intended 
To be a witness to thy wedding-rite, 
I did not bear a weapon — give me thy poniard. 
Pyth. Speak, to what end ? 
Damon. No matter, give it me. 
Cal. Ha ! what does he intend ? Now, by my love, 

Pythias, I do adjure thee, 

Pyth. Whither Damon, 
Where would'st thou go ? 
Damon. Unto the senate-house. 
Pyth. Then I will with you, too. 
Cal. He shall not •' 
Damon. No ! 
Thou say'st aright,— he shall not 1 Fair Calanthe, 
This is no hour to leave thee ! What, Calanthe, 
Should bridegrooms give the law, and 'gin to rule 
Even on their wedding day ? I charge thee, sweet. 
Assert thy brief dominion while thou canst; 
'Twill speedily be his turn. (aside to Pyth.) 

It shall not be ! It is against the law 



20 DAMON AND PYTHIAS. [Act 11 

For any soldier in the senate-house 

To lift his helm of war, and what avail 

Were thy companionship ? Calanthe, take him. 

Take him away, and heaven be o'er you both ! 

Pyth. But thou wilt promise me, upon the faith 
Of an old friendship, that thy sudden hand 
Will not attempt a rashness ? 

Damon. Be thou satisfied, 
I will do nought in passion. Come, Calanthe, {aside.) 
Assert thy right in him, and bear him hence 
Unto the garden-walk, and tell him o'er 
The names of all thy favourite plants ; 1 pray thee. 
Keep him in busy trifles, till the hour 
For the sweet rite be come — That's well, my girl; 
There, take him by the arm ! 

Cal. Come, Pythias, come ! 
I thank thee, Damon, for thy tender counsel. 

Pyth. Nay, Damon, nay, Calanthe — 

Cal. Nay me no nays ; 
I say it shall be so. 

Damon. May the gods pour 
Their blessings o'er your heads ! — Farewell ! fare- 
well ! 
I have no time to bide here, but my heart 
Shall be beside you at the altar-place. 
Perhaps it is an idle fear compels me 
Hence from your sight — I will, if possible. 
Return and see you wedded. — Fare you well ! 
Now, Syracuse, for thee ! — And may the fates 
So bless, or curse me, as I act in this ! 

^ ; \_Exeunt severally. 

Scene II. — The Senate house of Syracuse. — Senators 
assembled. — Philistius at their head — Diontsius 
stands in the front of the stage. — Damocles. 

1st. Sen. So soon warn'd back again ! 

Dion. So soon, good fathers. 
My last despatches here set forth, that scarce 
I had amass'd and form'd our gallant legions. 
When, as by magic, word of the precaution 



ActllJ DAMON AND PYTHIAS. 21 

Was spirited to their camp — and on the word, 
These Carthagenians took their second thought, 
And so fell back. 

Fhil. I do submit to you, 
That out of this so happy consequence 
Of Dionysius* movement on the citadel, 
Not only is his pardon for the act 
Freely drawn forth, but we are call'd upon 
Our thanks most manifestly to express 
For such a noble service. 

JDion. Good Philistius, 
I am a soldier ; yours and the state's servant, 
And claim no notice for my duty done 
Beyond the doing it — and the best thanks 
i merit, or can have, lie in the issue 
Which has most happily resulted. 

Dam. Nay, 
It rests in us to say so. 

Fhil. Dionysius, 
The work which of this enterprise thou hast made. 
Proves that oar citadel, and its resources, 
Have been misus'd ; and never so controll'd 
And order'd for our good, as by thyself; — 
Therefore retain it, govern and direct it. — 
Would the whole state were like the citadel 1 
In hot and angry times like these we want 
Even such a man. 

Da7n. I, from my heart, assent to 
And second this proposal. 

Dion. Most reverend fathers — 

Dam. We pray thee silence, noble Dionysius! 
All here do know what your great modesty 
Will urge you to submit — but I will raise 
This envious veil wherein you shroud yourself. 
It is the time to speak ; our country's danger 
Calls loudly for some measure at our hands, 
Prompt and decisive. 

Damon, {ivithout.) Thou most lowly minion \ 
I'll have thee whipp'd for it, and by the head 
Made less even than thou art ! 



22 DAMON AND PYTHIAS. [Act II 

Enter Damon. 

Phil. Wh® breaks so rude and clamorously in 
To scare our grave deliberations ? 

Damon. A senator ! — First let me ask you why 
Upon my way here to sit down with you, 
I have encountered in the open streets, 
Nay, at the very threshold of your doors. 
Soldiers and satelHtes array'd and marshalPd 
With their swords out ? Why have I been obstructed 
By an armed bandit in my peaceful walk here, 
To take my ripfhtful seat in the senate-house ? 
Why has a ruffian soldier privilege 
To hold his weapon to my throat ? A tainted, 
Disgrac'd, and abject traitor, Procles ? Who 
Dar'd place the soldiers round the senate-house f 

Phil. I pray you, fathers, let not this rash man 
Disturb the grave and full consideration 
Of the important jnatter touching which 
We spoke ere he rushed in. 

Dam. I did require 
To know from you, without a hand or head, 
Such as to us hath been our Dionysius, 
What now were our most likely fate ? 

Damon. The fate 
Of freemen in the full ; free exercise 
Of all the noble rights that freemen love ! 
Free in our streets to walk ; free in our councils 
To speak and act — 

Phil. I do entreat you, senators, 
Protect me from this scolding demagogue, 
And let us win your — 

Damon. Demagogue, Philistius ! 
Who was the demagogue, when at my challenge 
He was denoune'd and silenc'd by the senate. 
And your scant oratory spent itself 
In fume and vapour ? 

Dam. Silence, Damon, silence ! 
And let the council use its privilege, 

Datnon. Who bids me silence ? Damocles, the soft 
And pUant willow, Damocles ! — Bat come. 



Act 11] DAMON AND PYTHIAS. 23 

What do you dare proplOse > Come, I'll be silent- 
Go on. 

JPhil. Resolve you then, is Dionyslus 
This head indeed to us ? Acting for us— 
Yea, governing-, that long have proved we cannot. 
Although we feign it, govern for ourselves ? 
Da7n. Then who so fit, in such extremity. 
To be the single pillar, on whose strength 
.All power should rest ? 

I'hil. Ay, and what needs the state 
Our crowded and contentious councils here ? 
And therefore, senators,— countrymen, rather. 
That we may be wiser, and better ruFd 
Than by ourselves we are; that the state's danger 
May be confronted boldly, and that he 
May have but his just meed, 1 do submit 
That forthwith we dissolve ourselves, and choose 
A king in Dionysius. 

jya7non. Kingl A king? 
1*^ Se7i. I do approve It. 
2nd. Ay, and I. 
Dam. And all ! 

JDainon. And all! are all content ? 
A nation's right betray'd. 
And all content ! O slaves! O parricides !' 
O, by the brightest hope a just man has, 
I blush to look around and call you men ! 
Whatl with your own free willing hands yield up 
The ancient fabric ofy our constitution, 
To be a garrison, a common barrack, 
A common guard-house, and for common cut-throats' 
What I will ye all combine to tie a stone 
Each to each other's necks, and drown like dogs 
Within the tide of time, and never float 
To after ages, or at best, but float 
A buoyant pestilence ? Can ye but dig 
Your own dark graves, creep into them, and die ! 
2rd. Sen. I have not sanction'd it. 
4M. Sen. Nor I. 
5th. Sen. Nor I. 
Damon. O ! thanks for these few voices ! but alas I 



24 DAMON AND PYTHIAS. [Act II 

How lonely do they sound ! Do you not all 
Start up at once, and cry out liberty? 
Are you so bound in fetters of the mind, 
That there you sit as if you were yourselves 

Incorporate with the marble ? Syracusans ! 

But, no! I will not rail, nor chide, nor curse ye ! 
I will implore you, fellow-countrymen, 
With blinded eyes, and weak and broken speech, 
I will implore you — O ! I am weak in words. 
But I cculd bring- such advocates before you ; — 
Your fathers' sacred images; old men 
That have been grandsires ; women with their chil- 
dren, 
Caught up in fear and hurry, in their arms — 
And those old men should lift their shivering voiceSj 
And palsied hands — and those affrighted mothers 
Should hold their innocent infants forth, and ask, 
Could you make slaves of them? 

Fhil. I dissolve the senate 
At its own vote and instance. {Leaves his seat.) 

Darn. And all hail ! 
Hail, Dionysius, King of Syracuse ! 

Dion. Is this the vote ? 

Damon. There is no vote ! Philistius 
Hold you your seat ; keep in your places, senators. 

Dion. I ask, is this the vote? 

Phil. It is the vote, 
My gracious liege and sovereign ! 

Damon. I say nay ! 
You have not voted, Naxillus, or Petus— 
Nor you, nor you, nor you. 

JPhil. In my capacity 
As head, and organ of the city council, 
I do asseverate it is the vote ! 

{They all kneel to Dionysius except Damon.) 

Dion. I thank you, friends and countrymen, I thank 
ye! 

Damon. O, all the gods, my country, O, my country! 

Dion. And that we may have leisure to put on 
With fitting dignity our garb of power, 
We do now, first assuming our own right. 



Act II] DAMON AND PYTHIAS. 25 

Command from this, that was the senate-house, 
Those rash, tumultuous men, who still would tempt 
The city's peace with wild vociferation. 
And vain contentious rivalry. Begone! 

Damon. I stand 
A senator within the senate-house. 

Dion. Traitor ! and dost thou dare me to my face? 

Damon. Traitor! to v.'hom? to thee! — O Syracuse, 
Is this thy reg-ister'd doom ? To have no meaning 
For the proud names of liberty and virtue, 
But as some regal braggart sets it down 
In his vocabulary ? And the sense. 
The broad, bright sense that Nature hath assigned 

them 
In her infallible volume, interdicted 
For ever from thy knowledge ; or if seen. 
And known, and put in use, denounced as treasona- 
ble. 
And treated thus ?— No, Dionyslus, no ! 
I am no traitor ! But in mine allegiance 
To my lost country, I proclaim thee one ! 

Dion, My guards there ! Ho! 

Damon. What 1 hast thou then invoked 
Thy satellites already ? 

Enter Pbocies aiid Soldiera. 

Dion. Seize him! 
(Damon rushes on DionysiuSf arid attempts to stab him) 

Damon. First, 
Receive a freeman's legacy ! — {He is intercepted by 

Proc/<?s.)— Dionysius,-, 
Thy genius is triumphant, and old Syracuse 
Bows her to the dust at last I-^'Tis done ; 'tis o'er^ 
And we are slaves for ever ! 

Dion. We reserve 
This proud assassinating demagogue. 
Who whets his dagger on philosophy. 
For — an example to his cut-throat school \ — 
The axe, and not the sword. Out of his blood 
We'll mix a cement to our monarchy — 
Here do we doom him to a public death ! 
C 



26 DAMON AND PYTHIAS. [Act II 

Damon. Death's the best gift to one that never yet 
Wish'd to survive his country. Here are men 
Fit for the life a tyrant can bestow .' 
Let such as these hve on. 

Dion. Hold thou there ! 
Lest having stirr'd our vengeance into wrath. 
It reach unto those dearer than thyself. 
Ha ! have I touch'd thee, Damon? Is there a way 
To level thee unto the feebleness 
Of universal nature ? What, no word ? 
Come, use thy time, my brave philosopher! 
Soon will thy tongue cleave an unmoving lump 
Of thickest silence and oblivion, 
And that same wide and sweeping hand of thine, 
Us*d to the orator's high attitude. 
Lie at thy side in inutihty. 
Thou hast few moments left ! 

Damon. I know thee well — 
Thou art wont to use thy tortures on the heart. 
Watching its agonizing throbs, and making 
A science of that fell anatomy 1 
These are thy bloody metaphysics — this 
Thy barbarous philosophy ! I own 
Thou hast struck thy venom'd sting into my soul, 
But while I am wounded, I despise thee still ! 
My wife ! my child ? — O, Dionysius, 
Thou should'st have spared me that ! — Procles, lead 
on. [Exettnt. 

Scene III. — ^ Chamber in Arria's Hovse. 

Enter Pxthias. 

Pyth. What shouts I'end the wide city ? There is 
a roar 
Deep as. the murmuring of Etna. Gods! 
1 tremble for his safety. What, hoa, there ! 

Enter Servant. 

Hast thou. Sirrah, 

Heard no intelligence how matters speed 

Up at the senate-house ? 



V 



•><> 



Act II] DAMON AND PYTHIAS. 27 

Ser. My lord, no word. 

Pyih. And those time-cheating knaves I sent to 
know, — 
They have not yet returned ? 
Ser. Not yet, my lord. 

Pyth. Run thither, then — for thou art light-limb'd, 
• Regard Lord Damon well ; note how he seems, 
And what he says — On, on. 
Ser. My Lord, I will. 
Pyth, And hark ! 
Observe of all if any words of wrath 
Pall between him and Dionysius — 
' Begone ! [Earii Servant. 

Pyth. He is hotly mettled. 
And not life's autumn, nor the discipline 
, Of cold Pythagoras' school has tam'd it yet. 

Enter a Servant. 

Ser. My lord, — 

Pyth. Now sir, what from the senate-house ? 

.Ser. My lord, I know not of the senate-house. 

Pyth. Not, sir ! I sent thee thither, did I not ? 

Ser. Another, sir. I am despatched to say, 
That all the guests and witnesses are come. 
And that with them the bride Calanthe waits 
- To have thy company to the temple. 

Pyth. How ! ^ 

Is it the hour ? 

Ser. The hour, my lord, is past. [Exit Servant. 

Pyth. Did ever man upon his wedding-day 
Feel so impatient of the hour arriv'd 
That is to bless him ? But I dare not stir 
Till I have tidings of my friend — He is 
Expos'd to deadly loss, and may have need 
Of Pythias' sword. By Heaven, I do him wrong 
In tarrying from his presence at an hour 
So full of peril, and perhaps of death. 
Death, did I say ? I must 

Enter Auria. 

drria. Now, Pythias, Pythias, 



28 DAMON AND PYTHIAS. [Act II 

Why is it that we wait so long for thee ? 
Fie ! thou a bridegroom ! absent now ? 

Fi/th. Gods! if that Dionysius 
Should level at his life ! — 1 pr'ythee, Arria, 
How soon might one with active and light foot 
Run to the senate-house, and back again, 
From hence ? 

Arria. Is the man craz*d and lunatic ? 
Is it your pleasure that we wait a season, 
1, sir, Calanthe, and our guests and kinsmen. 
For your best humour to get wedded in ? 

Pi/th. Good Arria, pardon me ; take not amiss 
This absent seeming — but I am not well, 
I know not how, but so you see it is — 
Give me an half-hour — ay, the half— the tithe 
Of such a time '. 

Arria. Pythias, indeed art ill ? 

Pi/th. rfuith, I am — sick in the head and heart ! 
Bear with me, Arria ; go among our guests. 
And cheat their notice of this accident, 
I shall be better quickly — Well, quite well. 

Arria. The gods forefend it should fall otherwise. 

{Exit. 

Pyth. O how these leaden-footed limping minutes 
I/ag and creep beneath my lashing wish! 
When fiery expectation mounts the time. 
Time is a spiritless and jaded steed, 
Tliat staggers 'neath his rfder. Gracious gods ! 
Will none of them come to relieve this weight 
From my o'er loaded heart! — What shall I do ? 
Ualanthe! 

Enter Calanthe. 

Cal. My dear Pythias! 

Fijtk. Calanthe! 

Cal. My mother whispered me you were not well; 
And here, even us you- see me, though you should not 
Have seen me in nty bridal garments thus 
Till we were wedded — yet even thus, 
I'o speak with you, and comfort you, £ came. 
, Pyth. Beshrew iier heart now, though slje be thy 
mother. 



Act 11] DAMON AND PYTHIAS. 29 

For such ill-tim'd and womanish whispering". 
I am as well, as 1 am happy too. 

Cal. She said, too, but I heed it not- 

Fyth. What said she? 

Cal. She pray'd the gods your sickness might be 
free 
From surfeit sickness : but I heed it not : 
You know I heed it not ; I cannot think 
Your heart is such a bad one, Tythias, 

Pyih, How! 

Cal. I do not think 'tis in your very nature 
To stumble so — at least, I do not think 
You would have waited till this very hour. 
When, like two plants that have been long in neigh- 
bourhood, 
Our souls had crept and twin'd around each other. 
Leaves, fibres, roots, and all ! 

Pyth. Tears, my Calanthe ! 
How like a virgin morn in May thou art, 
That would be wedded to the amorous day, 
In all its watery freshness ! My fair girl. 
The maiden pulse beating upon thy brow 
Is not so faithful to its sister pulse, 
Which throbs within this little heart of thine, 
As I have been, and am ! — Ha ! dost thou smile ? 
Now, by the gods! I cannot see thee smile, 
And tarry longer from the property 
Of this dear hand I grasp. Come, my Calanthe, 
They tarry for us, do they not ? 

Cal. They do. 

Pyth. Nay, do not bend thy head, but let me gaze 
Upon thee as we go, that those fine looks. 
So full of life and joy, may banish from me 
The ghastly thought of death ! 

Cal. Death 1 

Pyth. Nay, forgive me ; 
I know not what I say. — Ye bounteous gods. 
Who guard the good, because yourselves are good, 
Wave your protecting arm around him ! — Come, — 
O, Friendship! thou must yield it for a time 
To the torch-bearer, when he lights his fires 
c 2 



so DAMON AND PYTHIAS. [Act II 

From two such eyes as tjiese are ! — Come, Calanthe. 

[Exeuni. 

Scene IV. — Jl Du7igeon. 

Damon discovered at a table, luriting. 

Damon. Existence! wliat is that? a name ibr notli- 
ing"! 
U is a cloudy sky chas'd by the winds ; 
lis fickle form no sooner chosen than chang'd ; 
It is the whirling of the mountain flood, 
Which, as we look upon it, keeps its shape, 
'i'hough what compos'd that shape, and what com- 
poses, 
Hath pass'd — will pass — nay, and is passing on, 
Kven while we think to hold it in our eyes. 
And deem it there. Fie! fie! a feverish vision, 
A crude and crowded dream, unwill'd, unbidden, 
By the weak wretch that dreams it. 

Enter Procles and Guards. 

Proc. Damon, thine hour is come. 

Damon. Fast, sir, say past, — to come argues a stay 
Upon the coming. He has refus'd me then— 
Your general, Dionysius !— the king — 
He has refused me even, this little respite 
I ask'd of him ? 

Proc. All! he refuses all. 

Damon. Did'st tell him why I ask'd it .«' Did'st ex- 
plain 
It was to have my wife warn'd here to Syracuse, 
From her near dwelling upon Etna's side. 
To see me ere I die ? 

Proc. I said it, sir. 

Damon. And he refused it ? 

Proc. Ay, sir; he refus'd. 

Damon. Upon the instant, 

Proc. Yes, upon the instant. 

Damon. Is he not wedded ? 

Proc. Yes. 

Damon. A father, too ? 



AetU] DAMON ASM FYTlilAS. 31 

Proc. He is a futlicr, toj. 

Damon. And he refus'd it ? 
I will attend you, and 1 pray you pardon — 
This is no time to play the cutechist — 
The little boon I have to bc-j^ of thee. 
It is the last ; 1 would not fnin be irksonrie ; 
It is the last I shall prc'eron eartii 
Unto my fellow-inen. This is my testament — 
1 pray thee give it to a friend of mine 
Who may inquire about me ; he will hold it 
And use it for my wife. 

J^roc. His name ? 

Damon. It is ~ 

I did not wish to trust my coward tongue 
With utterance of that name ; I fear'd it would 
Pluck up all manhood by the roots ; but, sir, 
This now is childish ; Pythias, sir — Alas ! 
To-day will prove a woful wedding-day 
To thee, and thy Calanthe '.—and my Hermion, 

My fond, poor Hermion, and my boy Good Pro- 

cles, 
Let me not stand here talking idly thus — 
I am quite ready — on, sir ; I attend you ! {Exeunt. 



ACT ill. 

Scene I. — A Temple of Hymsn. 

Pythias an JCalaxthe discovered, tvith Kuu\x, Guests, 
PriestSy and Virgins — Fytldas holding Calanthe's 
hand. 

Jlyynn. 1st Priest and 1st Virgin, 

Thou beneath whose holy smile 
Lips may meet, and not defile, 
And hands and hearts together cling, 
Fearless of shame and sorrowing : 
The vows we offer. Hymen, hear , 
Jlecord the oath thv votaries swear i 



32 DAMON AND PYTHIAS. [Act III 

Bless the hands that now are plight, 
And sanctify the nuptial rite ! 

Chorus. 

Bless the hands that now are plight. 
And sanctify the nuptial rite ! 

1st Priest. 

Thou, who turn'st to holy fire 
The sinful blaze of young desire. 

1st Virgin, 

Thou, whose hand-maid virtues deck 
The bridal flowers for beauty's neck. 
That the fond maid as blest may be, 
And meet his wooing modestly. 

Chorus. 

Bless the hands that now are plight. 
And sanctify the nuptial rite ! 

At the beginning of this Chorus^ Pythias and Calanthe 
kneel; at the close of it, Lucullus enters, and runs 
up to Pythias, and -whispers him; Pythias lets drop 
Calanthe's hand, and starts up. 

Pyth. Hold ! hush your songs of Hymen, for I hear 
A raven's croaking, that discordantly 
Breaks in upon your joyous melody ! 
(To iwc.) Where, sirrah, where? Where, shall I 
speak with him ? 

Luc. He did desire, my lord, that I should lead you. 

Pyth. And not say where ? 

Luc. It was his charge, my lord. 

Pyth. In one word, say the hour and place of this. 
Or — ha ! I see it in thine eye — his life, "" 

His life is forfeit — he isdoom'd to death! 

Luc. Alas ! my lord. 

Pyth. O, by the gods, it is so ! 
And like a selfish coward did I stand. 
And saw him rush and singly front himself 
Against a host, when it was evident 



Act III] DAMON AND PYTHIAS. 33 

As is the universal li^ht of day, 

He must have perish'd in't — Coward ! cowaid ! 

He would not thus have done ! 

Iaic. My lord, 

Pyth. Speak not, 
I know thou would'st admonish me to speed, 
Or see him dead. 
Cal. Pythias! 

Jirria. Where would'st thou go ? 
Would you yet more insult us ? 
Cal. Pythias 1 

Pyth. Now let me go— away, I say • 
Cal. Pythias! 

Pyth. I say unloose me, or by all — 
Thou art as guilty, with thy blandishments, 
That did provoke this ruin, as I am 
For being tempted by thee ! —Woman, away ! 
Cal. Unkind one! 

Pyth. Ha ! thou weepest !— O, Calanthe ! 
Forgive me — pity me — I am desperate ! 
I know not what I do— but — (Embraces her,) — O, 

Calanthe, 
There is a horrid fate that tears me hence. . 
Now, Sirrah, lead me on !— Away ! away ! 

(^Btishes out -with LucuUus.) 
[Sce7ie closes on the rest. 

Scene H.— .2 Street. 
Enter Dximoi<!, guarded, and Procees. 

Damon. A moment's pause here, Procles. 
We discours'd together 

Of an old friend of mine, w'u) in all likelihood 
Would question thee concerning my last thoughts, 
While leaving this vain world ; I do entreat thee, 
When thou shalt see that man, commend me to him, 
And say, a certainly of how true a friend 
And father he will be unto my wife 
And child — 

Pyth. ( Without) Hold back ! it is rnipossiole 
That ye butcher him, till we speak together ! 



34 DAMON AND PYTHIAS. [ActlH 

Enter Pythias, preceded by SoldierSy -who obstruct his 

■way. 

I am his nearest friend' I should receive 

His dying words — hold back! {Breaks through them.) 

O, Damon ! Damon ! 

Damon. 1 wish'd for this, but fear*d it, Pythias ! 
Tush ! — we are men, my Pythias, we are men. 
And tears do not become us. 

Pyth. Doom and death 
In the same moment ! is there no hope, Damon ? 
Is every thing impossible ? 

Damon. For me. 
With Dionysius, every thing — I crav'd 
But six hours' respite, that my wife may come, 
And see me — 

Fyth. And he would not ? 

Damon. Not an hour — 
Just to have kiss'd her, and my little boy — 
Just to have kiss'd her — 

Pyth. The cold villain ! 

Damon, Well, 
All that is o'er now, and this talk superfluous. 
Ere you came up, my friend, I was about 
To leave a greeting for you with the officer — 
I bade him say, too,— for, despite of rules 
Well conn'd and understood, in such a time 
As this — so sudden, hopeless, and unlook'd for. 
The eye will water, and the heart grow cowardly 
At thoughts of home, and things we love at home ; 
And something like a sorrow, or a fear. 
For what may happen, will stick in the throat. 
To choke our words, and make them weak and wo- 
manish. 

Pyth. Tears have a quality of manhood in them, 
When shed for what we love. 

Damon. I bade him say. 
That half my fear for her, and my young boy, 
As to their future fate, was banished. 
In the full certainty I felt of all 
The care and kindness thou wilt have of them. 



ActUI] DAMON AND PYTHIAS. 35 

Pyth. That was a true thought, Damon. 

Damon, I know it, Pythias ; 
O, I know it Pythias ; 

And when the shock of this hath pass*d away, 
And thou art happy with thy sweet Calanthe, 

Pyth. Damon. 

Damon, Well, Pythias ? 

Pyth. Did'st thou not say 
It was thy last desire to look upoit 
Thy wife and child, before 

Damon. I would give up, 
Were my life meted out by destiny 
Into a thousand years of happiness^ 
All that long measure of felicity. 
But for a single moment, in the which 
I might compress them to my heart. 

Pyth. Good Procles, 
Lead me at once to Dionysius — 
I mean unto the king — that's his new name— ^ 
Lead me unto the king — Ha ! here he comes \ 

Enter DioNTSitrs and Damocles. 

Behold me, Dionysius, at thy feet! 

As thou dost love thy wife, and thy sweet children ; 

As thou art a husband and a father, hear me ! 

Let Damon go and see his v.'ife and child 

Before he dies — for four hours respite him — 

Put me in chains : plunge me into his dungeon, 

As pledge for his return ; do this — but this — 

And may the gods themselves build up thy greatness 

As high as their own heaven. 

Dion. What wonder's this.'' 
Is he thy brother ? 

Damon. No, not quite my brother ! 
Not — yes, he is — he is my brother ! 

Dion. Damon, is this a quibble of thy school? 

Pyth. No quibble, for he is not so in kin. 
Not in the fashion that the world puts on. 
But brother in the heart ! 

Dion. {To Damon.) Did'st urge him on 
To this ? 



36 DAMON AND PYTHIAS. [Act III 

Pyth. By the gods, no ! 

Dion, And should I grant 
Thy friend's request, leaving- thee free to go. 
Unvvatch'd, unguarded, thou mak'st nought of it, 
Quite sure that thou wilt come and ransom him. 
At the imminent time? 

Damon. Sure of it ? Hearest thou, Heaven ? 
The emptiest things reverberate most sound, 
And hollow hearts have words of boisterous promise. 
I can say only — I am sure ! 

Dio7i. 'Tis granted. 
How far abides thy wife from hence ? 

Damon. Four leagues. 

Dion. For six hours we defer thy death. *Tis now 
The noon exactly ; and at the sixth hour 
See that thou stand'st not far from him ; away ! 
Conduct that man to prison. 

Damon. Farewell, Pythias ! 

Pyth. And farewell, Damon! Not a word upon it. 
Speed thee. What, tears ? — Forbear. 

Damon, I did not think 
To slied one tear; but friendship like to thine — 

Pyth. Farewell ! Come, Officer. 

Damon. I pray thee, Frocles, 
Give me the testament thou had'st of me. . 

[Procles gives it him, 
Pythias, thy hand again ; Pythias, farewell ! 

Pyth. Farewell! 

[Exit Damov on one side, Pythias, Procles and 
Guards on the other. 

Dion. O, by the wide world, Damocles, 
1 did not think the heart of man was moulded 
To such a purpose, 

Dam. It is wondrous, 

Dion^ Wondrous ! 
Sir, it doth win from the old imaglners 
Their wit and novelty!— 
I'll visit Pythias in his dungeon : — get me 
A deep disguise.— "V/e*ll use such artifice 
As the time, and our own counsel may suggest.--* 
If they should triumph, crowns are nothingness. 



Act III] DAMON AND PYTHIAS. 37 

Glory is sound — and grandeur, poverty ! [Exeunt, 

ScEKE III. — Another Street. 
Enter Damox anf/I.ucun.TJS. 

Luc. O my dear lord, my master, and my friend, 
The sight of you thus safe 

Damon. Safe ! 

Luc. For at least 
A respite, my kind lord. 

Damon. No more, Lucullus. 
Is my horse ready ? 

Luc. Yes, the gallant grey 
Of Anaxagoras you lately purchased. 

Enter Calanthe. 

Cal. Hold sir ! — Is what they tell me true ? 

Damon. Calanthe, 
At any time save this, thy voice would have 
The power to stay me — Pr'ythee, let me pass — 
Nor yet abridge me of that fleeting space 
Given to my heart. 

Cal. Speak, have they said the truth ? 
Have you consented to put in the pledge 
Of Pythias' life for your return ? 

Damon. 'Tis better 
That I should say to her, — "Hermion I die !'* 
Than that another should hereaftertell 
" Damon is dead !" 

Cal. No, you would say to her, 
" Pythias has died for me" — even now the citizens 
Cried in mine ear, " Calanthe, look to it !" 

Damon. And do you think I would betray him ! 

Cal. Think of it?— 
I give no thought upon it — Possibility, 
Though it should weigh but the least part of a chance. 
Is quite enough — Damon may let him die — 
Ay, meanly live himself, and let him die ! 

Damon. Calanthe, I'll not swear — When men lift up 
Their hands unto the gods, it is to give 
Assurance to a doubt : But to confirm 
D 



38 DAMON AND PYTHIAS. [Act III 

By any attestation the return 
Of Damon unto Pythias, would profane 
The sanctity of friendship — Fare thee well — 
Nay, cling not to me. 

Cal. So will Hermion cling — 
But Damon will not so reject her. — 
She will implore thee back to life again, 
And her loud cries will pierce thy inmost breast. 
And Pythias will be murder'd. 

Damon. I must unloose thy grasping. 

Cal. Mere)', Damon •' 

Damon. Unwillingly I stay thy struggling hands — 
Forgive me foi't. 

Cal. Damon, have mercy on me ! 

Damon, May the gods bless thee! 

[Exeunt Damon and Lucullut. 

Cal. Darhon, mercy, Damon I 
He flies! and there's a voice tliat from my heart, 
As from the grave, cries out, that never more 
He will return to Pythias. — Hermion — his child— 
And his own selfish instinct — or some accident 
May fall, and stay iiim back, and tliat will be 
The axe to Pythias ! — O, I will follow him — 
I'll tell him that, and, like a drowning wretch, 
Fasten about his neck, and cling to him ! 
But, ah I — he flies— his steed is on the wind ! 
My evil demon wings him, and he tramps 
Already the wide distance ! — Pythias, 
The flowers in bridal mockery on my brow 
Thus I rend off, and keep them for the grave ! 

JE/j/erDiONYsius disguised. 

Dion. Thy name's Calanthe, and thou art the bride 
Of Pythias — is't not thus? 

Cal. What dost thou come 
To say to me of Pythias? 

Dion. Art thou not 
His bride ? 

Cal. The marriage-temple was prepared, 
The virgin's voices were sent up to Heaven, 
When death did all at once 



Act III] DAMON AND PYTHIAS. 39 

Rise up, and all that pomp did disappear, 
And for the altar, I behold the tomb ! — 
He never will return. 

Dion. He will not. 

Cal Ha! 
Dost thou confirm my apprehensions ? 
They were black enough ah'eady — and thy smile ] 
It is the gloss upon the raven's plumes — 
Thy smile is horrible ! 

Bion. Calanthe, hear me. 
The tyrant Dionysius, has resolved 
To intercept this Damon, and prevent 
His coming back to Syracuse. 

Cal. O, gods ! 

Dio7i. 1 am an inmate in the tyrant's house. 
And learn'd his fell decree! 

Cal. Then, speed thee hence : 
Mount thou the fleetest steed in Syracuse- '■ 
Pursue the unhappy Damon— tell him this; 
I know he has a brave and generous nature, 
"Will not betray his friend ! Go after him 
And save my husband ! 

Bion. I have found a way 
To rescue him already: thou and Pythias 
Shall fly from Syracuse. 

Cal. What ! shall he 'scape 
The tyrant's fangs ? 

Bion. For ever! — But thou must 
Follow my precept. 

Cal. I will obey you, sir. 
And bless you ! 

Bion, Then to Pythias — come with me. [Exevnt. 

Scene IV. — A Terrace attached to the Prison^ ivith the 
Sea outstretched before it. — ^ Portal on one side — 
en the other, the dungeoii-door of Pythias, barred and 
chained. 

Enter Diontsius, preceded by an Officer who points to 
the dungeon. 

Dion, Is this the dungeon ? — Unbar the door. — 



40 DAMON AND PYTHIAS. [Act IH 

I'll probe him deeply. — 

Slave ! 

Observe well the orders that I gave thee ! 

[Motions him aivay, and opens the door. 
My lord Pythias ! — 

Pyth. (rviihin.) How now ! who calls me ? 
Dion. A friend, Pythias ; — the time is precious ; — ■ 
haste, 
And follow me. 

Enter Pythias. 

Pyth, Where do you lead me ? 

Dion. I come 
To serve and succour thee. 

Pyth. And who art thou. 
And how can'st succour me? 

Dion. I dwell beneath the tyrant's roof, andlearn'd 
by accident 
This fell determination — he hath resolv'd 

Pyth, My life !— 

Dion. Thy life ! 
Ere this, he has despatch'd some twenty men 
To intercept thy friend, on his approach 
"to meet and ransom thee. 

Pyth. Almighty Heaven! 

Dion. He not arriving at the appointed hour. 
Thy life is forfeited. 

Pyth. We try the depth together ; I had hop'd 
That one or other of us could have liv'd 
For thy poor Hermion's, or Calanthe's sake. — 
No matter. 

Dio7i. Pythias, I came to save thee. 

Pyth. What dost thou mean ? 

Dion. Urg'd by my pity for such noble friends, 
So trusting and betray'd — anxious, besides. 
To leave the tyrant's court. 
Hither I brib'd my way. — Thy fair Calanthe 
Shall be the partner of thy flight. — Thy father — 

Pyth, Sir!— 

Dion, Yes, thy father, too — thy time-struck father, 
Who, till this day, for many circling years 



Act 111] DAMON AND PYTHIAS. 41 

Hath not held human intercourse, 

Was visited by me — he hath uprais'd him 

From his lonely bed. 

Filth. Thou speukest of miracles! 
Dion. And ere I came, with all despatch and se- 
crecy, 
I have provided in the port of Syracuse 
A good quick-sailing ship — yonder she lies, 
Her sails already spread before the breeze. 
And thou, and thy Calanthe — see, she comes — 
Haste, lady, haste to thy betrothed lord ! 
Pyth. Wide-working- Heaven, Calanthe ! 

Enter CALA"BfTHE. 

Cal. Pythias! 
Though when thou should'st have cherished, thou 

did'st spurn me> 
Though in the holy place where we had met 
To vow ourselves away unto each other, 
Though there, when I was kneeling at thy feet, 
Thou did'st forswear, and mock at me—yet here 
I do forgive thee all — and I will love thee 
As never woman lov'd her young heart's idol. 
So thou but speed'st to safety. 

Pyth. Hold, Calanthe.— 
If mothers love the babe upon the breast. 
When it looks up with laughter in its eyes, 
Making them weep for joy—if they can love, 
I loved, and do love thee, my Calanthe : — 
But wert thou magnified above thyself. 
As much in fascination as thou art 
Above all creatures else, — by all the gods, 
In awful reverence sworn, I would not cheat 
My honour ! 
Cal. How ! 

Dion. Madman, what dost intend ! 
Pyth. Dost thou not know the tvrant spar'd his 
life, 
On the security I gave for him — 
Stand I not here liis pledge ? ^ 
I}ion. (aside.) 'Tis wonderful I 
d2 



42 DAMON AND PYTHIAS. [Act III 

His brow is fix'd ; his eye is resolute. 

Cal. Pythias, mine idoliz'd and tender Pythias — 
Am I then scorn'd? — Behold ! look, Pythias, there! 

Pyth. What do I see ? 

Cal. Thy father,— Nicias ! 
He who did give thee being", and the blood 
That bvibbles round thy heart. Since my poor tears 
Are valueless, hear him, and disobey not. 

Pijth. Ha! dream I this? 

Dion, {aside.) There ! he is shaken there ! 

Enter Nicias, extremely old and feeble. 

JK'icias. Where is my son, the child of my old years. 
The last of all my blood— where is my son ? 
I scarce behold the day -light — where is my son ? 

Pyih. Here, father, here ! 

J\'icias. Is this my Pythias' hand ? 
Arc these his arms that press me ? O, my son, 
Come to thy father's heart ! Child of my age, 
I do believe thou lov'st me ! 

Pyth. O, my father! 
Witness these burning tears, tears which came not 
In such a gush as now. 

J\''icias. Upon my lonely bed, thy long lost name, 
Pronounc'd in shrieking anguish, to mine ear 
Came, and I heard it — the first human sound 
That for a lapse of time held intercourse 
"With my forgotten heart— and lo i 1 heard it! 
And then lask'd of thee, and what they purpos'd 
To do on thee — and here I came, my son, 
To go with thee to safety. 

Pyth. Spare me that! 
All things 
I'll do but that ; and that I dare not do. 

J\ricias. The tyrant doth break fiiith vi'ith thee. 

Pyth. 'Tis said so. 

Cal. And Damon cannot come to be thy ransom. 

Pyth. I have heard it, my Calanthe, 

Cal. And that thou — 
That thou — O gods !— must die when he comes not ? 

Pv^/i. And that! know, Caianthe, 



Act III] DAMON AND PYTHIAS. 43 

Ca/. If thou knowest it, 
What is thy heart, that it can still be obstinate ? 

Pyth. I should not have heard it ; or, having heard 
it, 
I still may hold it false. This busy world 
Is but made up of slight contingencies — 
There are a thousand that may alter this, 
Or leave it where it was : — there is not one 
Should push us a mere point from any pledge 
Of manliness and honour. 

JSTicias. Look on thy father, Pythias— he scarce 
sees 
His son— darkness has pour'd her waters on him. 
Quenching the spark that lights up human life, 
In gay variety ; yet I would Hve. 

Pyth. And' ^ti would I, my fath^,>| /- 
IJAg t>sAj*p^t,Jieii:ii^»8L,-ugnd,cHein^yfou ! 
Ove to possess my own Calanthe here. 
Who recommends existence with a smile 
So sad and beautiful !— Yet would I live, 
But not dishonour'd— Still, Calanthe, he may return! 
May ! may ! — That word ends all ! — Death looks but 

grimly, 
And the deep grave is cheerless— yet I do — 
I do prefer the certainty of death 
Unto the possibility of dishonour ! 

J\^icias. Pythias my son, the cold dim house of 
death — 
To be a lonely, shuddering tenant in it, 
Or live in sunshine one's own young heart gives out! 
Thy hand, Calanthe ; give thy hand, my girl,— 
And thine, my son— here, take her— save, or lose 
her! 

Ca!. Thyself, and me 1 Save both! 

Dioji. Behold ! Behold! 

{Fointing to the side of the stage.) 
The good ship hath her streaming signal out ! 
The canvass swells up to the wooing wind ! 
The boat puts off— now, now, or never! 

Cal. See 
How swiftly, in her gallant liberty 



44 DAMON AND PYTHIAS. [Act III 

She comes through the calm sea ! — 0, hark ! the oars, 

How rapidly they plash in harmony ! 

O look at freedom, Pythias look at it ! 

How beautiful it is upon t!ie sea ! 

Pythias, my Pythias — O ! how we shall laugh 

"While bounding o'er the blessed wave that bears us 

From doom and death, to some fair Grecian isle ! 

Dion. See, they approach ! dost hesitate ? 
JVicias. My son ! 

Cal. Pythias ! — my husband, Pythias ! 

Pyth. No ! no ! so help me heaven ! — 'Tis hard ! — 
It plucks my heart up— but, no ! no ! {Kneels.) 

Cal. Q, gods ! (She falls mto his arms.) 

ScEXE I. — The exterior of Damon's Villa. 
Enter Damon- and Ltjcullus. 

Damon. At last, I have arriv'd ! At last, Lucullus, 
I've reach'd the place to which my heart did send 
Its throbbing far before mc. {Leans on Lucullus.) 

Lvc. Good, my lord. 

Damon. It is not for the beauty of this place. 
It is not for the keen intenser sense 
Existence hath in this delicious spot, 
Where every breath is a nev/ act of bliss, — 
Lucullus, no ; it is, t!iat here my wife — 
That here in this enchanting solitude. 
My boy, my only one — T dare not see them ! 
Lucullus, wer't not better togo back, 
And die without beholding them ? 

Lxic. My lord, 
The day moves on in Heaven; jou have little t'wne 
Left for this fatal parting. 

Damon. Come, 1 must wake 
My manhood up again ! — I will go in 
At once, Lucullu?; go thou hence, Lucullus, 



Act IV] DAMON AND PYTHIAS. 45 

And tend our horses. — T have scarcely power 
To lift the latch. (^Looks out.) O, gods ! 

Luc. What is the matter > 

Damon. Look! there she is, Lucullus, and my boy 
Beside her.— She (poor sv/eet thing- 1) in the bovver 
Of jasmine, where she knows I love to sit 
And look upon the setting of the sun. 
Prepares a little feast for me. Behold 
With what a diligence she puts in trim 
Her banquet of fair fruits ! — My little boy, too. 
Waits at her side, and with uplifted hands 
Unto her care doth minister 1 To-day, 
I said that I should visit her, and this 
Is meant for my reception. — Come, come, Damon, 
Be a man again ! — Lucullus, take thou care 
To have our horses ready. — How I tremble ! 

{Exit Damon. 

JLuc. Never shall he return, if there be power 
In this quick hand to cast an intercept 
Between him and perdition : though it cost 
My life, he shall not die ; perhaps he'll kill me, 
But time shall come, when at Lucullus' name. 
He will lift up his hands, and weep for me ! [Exit. 

Scene II. — .^ Garden, 

HERMioif discovered arranging a little Feast. — Her 
Child beside her, luith a basket of Flowers, 

Child. Will he come soon home, mother! 

Herm^ I pray the gods 
He may, my child. 

Child. It seems so long a time 
Since he has ta'en me on his knee, and kiss'd me. 

Herm. Hark thee, my boy ! 
This is the hour, wherein Lucullus said 
He would arrive to-day to visit us. 
Go, see if he be coming ; he'll be glad 
To greet the rosy fruit upon thy cheeks. 
Even as he enters our sweet garden heie. 
Hie thee, and bear me word if he approaches — 
The first kiss shall be thine. {Exit Child. 



46 DAMON AND PYTHIAS. [Act IV 

Herm. Thou unkind Damon ! 
To send me here to woman*s loneliness, 
A prey to all the sickening hopes and fears 
I must have of thee, in these blustering' times. 

Enter Damox, ivith the Child in his arms. 

Child See, I have found him for you, mother ! 

Herm. Ha ! 

Damon, Hermion ! my treasure, Hermion ! 

Herm, My dear lord 
1 had prepar'd this little feast for you, 
But hope at last grew sick within my heart. 
And I could hardly force it to a thought 
That yet thou would'st arrive — Oft 1 look'd out 
Upon the weary way thou should'st have journeyM, 
And oft the hills' dim vapour rose like Damon, 
Till the sun came to shape it, and to show me 
That yet tiiou wert away. 

Damon. And are ye then, 
Are ye so helpless in our absence, Hermion ! 

Herm. Come, now — you know it. O my dear, dear 
husband ! 
If I should tell thee of my q\iaking heart. 
While thou art bustling there in Syracuse, — 
Why wilt thou start ? — 'twould cheat thee of thy tears, 
And make thee womanish ; and — for I know 
Thou lov'st thy own poor Hermion, — thou should'st 

swear 
Never again to leave her. 

Damon. Nerve me. Heaven ! 

Herm. Indeed thou should'st ! and look thee here, 
my Damon, 
But for this little boy, who is so like thee 

Damon. Is he so very like me, Hermion ? 

Herm. Nay, 
A very little self of thee ; — and, but 
For looking long into his face — so long 
That the tears blinded me, — I've half consented 
To think it was thyself; and then I kiss'd 
My boy, and I was happy for a time. 
And but for this, my Damon, and bis talk. 



Act IV] DAMON AND PYTHIAS. 47 

His childish prattle on my knee, of what 

He would achieve and be — Come, Sir, rehearse 

These matters over ; say what would'st thou be i 

Damon. What would'st thou be, my boy ? 
Child. A soldier, father. 

Damon. Come, come, now, not a soldier. 
Child.,Nay, but I'd choose, sir, 
To be what Pythias is. 

Damon. {Much moved.) Thou art a brave boy ? 
Go pluck a flower from yonder gay recess. 
At the other end of the garden'. — Wreathe me now 
The fairest garland for my welcome — there — 
A brave, brave boy. [Exit Child, 

Now, gods! — {Aside.) 

Herm. Dost thou not think 
He grows apace ? 

Damon. Have I in all my life 
Given thee an angry look, or word, or been 
Ever an unkind mate, my Hermion ? 

Herm. Never! the gods know, never! 

Damon. From thy heart 
Thou sayest this ? 

Herm. Yea, from my inmost heart ! 

Damon. I am glad of it : for thou wilt think of this 
When I am dead, my Hermion : and 'twill make thee 
The kindest mother to our boy 1 

Herm. O, gods ! 
Why dost thou talk of death ? Damon, thy cheek, 
Thy lip is quivering — art sick, or griev'd 
'With some discomfiture? O, these wild wars 
And bickerings of the state, how have they robbed 

thee 
Of thy soul's quiet ! 

Damon. Tell me, tell me, Hermion, — 
Suppose I should impart the heaviest news 
That could possess thine ear, how would'st thou bear 
it? 

Jlerm. Laugh at it ! — mock at it to make thee smile, 
And teach thee to be happy in despite 
Of any turn of fortune. — What dost thou mean? 
What heavy news ? I know the part thou takest 
In the state's service. — Hath the tyrant risen ? 



48 DAMON AND PYTHIAS. [Act IV 

Damon. He hath ; but that's not it. 

Herm. The Carthagenians 
Have sack'd the city ? 

Damon. No ! 

Herm. Why then thy friend 
So well belov'd of thee — Pythias! — 'tJs he ! 

Damon. No, thank the gods, not he ! 

Herm. What is it then ? — 

The heaviest news that could possess mine ear ! 

Ha ! *tis thyself— some danger hath befallen thee. 
Or threatens thee. — Speak, my dear Damon, speak, 
Or I shall die of thoughts that come to kill me ! 

Damon. When I wooed thee, Hermion, 

'Twas not the fashion of thy face, or form, 

Though from the hand of Heaven thou camest so rich 

In all external loveliness, it was not 

Such excellence that rivetted my heart 

And made me thine ; but I said to myself. 

Thus : — Here is one, who, haply were I wreck'd, 

Or, were 1 to-morrow, or a later day. 

Struck down by fortune — 

Herm. Wert thou made as low 
From what thou art as earth's foundation-stone 
Is from the top of Etna — did men scorn thee — 

Damon. Nay, thus I said, my Hermion :— Did the 
blow 
Fall deadly as it might — here is a woman 
Who hath such firm devotion in her love. 
She would not rend my heart, but for my sake, — 
And, should we have a child, for his sake too, — 
Bear firmly up, though death itself — 

Berm. Death! Death! 

Damon: ( Giving her the testament.') 
Take this — read this — 'twill speak what I cannot — 
I thought I could, and by the gods I cannot ! 

Herm. Ha ! here's a poisoning adder in this scroll, 
It eats into my heart I— Die, Damon! Death ! 
When ? how ? I cannot understand it — Die I 
Where ? what offence ? 

Damon. I have been doom'd to death by Dionysius. 

Berm. But thou hast 'scaped the sentence ; thou 
art here. 



Act IV] DAMON AND PYTHIAS. 49 

Alone ! unguarded ! — It is but to fly 
To Greece, or Italy, or any where 
From this. 

Damon. From this to Syracuse. — I'll tell thee — 
Ere now I had been dead — 

Herm. No ! no ! 

Damon. Ere this 
I had been dead, but that my friend, my Pythias, 
By putting on my fetters — giving up 
Himself as hostage for my sure return, — 
Wrought on the tyrant to bestow me time 
To see thee here. 

Herm. By the wide world, thou shalt not ! 
I hold thee here — these arms encompass thee 
As doth thy heart its life-spring ! 

Damon. Not! 

Herm. Thou shalt not ! 

Damon. Not ! not return !— Not go to take my 
friend 
Out of the fetters I have hung upon him ? 

Herm. Life ! to save that, the wrong becomes the 
right ! 
The gods that made us have so quicken'd us, 
Nature so prompts us, and all men forgive it, 
Because all men would do it. — By the love 
(If thou hast any) of thy wife and child — 
Ay, frown— do Damon, frown, and kill me too. 
Or live for us ! 

Re-enter Child -mth Jloxvers. 

The blessed gods have sent thee 

With thy sweet helplessness—kneel down, my child, 

Hold up thy little hands with mine, and pray 

Not to be made an orphan — not so soon, 

So very soon ! — Kind Damon, look upon us ! 

Husband, look on us, we are at thy feet ! 

Damon. Ye are !— I see it, and my heart bleeds for 
ye ! 
I must turn my eyes away from you 
While you are urging me to my dishonour, 
E 



50 DAMON AND PYTHIAS. [Act IV 

And bid me murder him that I may live ! 
Hermion farewell ! 

(Turning- round aud embracing her.) 
fferm. (In agony) Live Damon ! live ! live ! live ! 
Damon. Hermion, my life, look up ! awake, my 
Hermion. (6726 srvoons in his arms.) 

Unier an old Servant. 

Damon. The hour is past! I trifle with necessity ! 
Hermion ! I now indeed must part from thee. 
All pale and cold and deaiii-like as thou art: 
Thus may I part from thee, to g-o and be 
Myself full soon as cold ! — Here, here, old man, 
Here, hold her from the earth, — 

( Giving Hermion to the old Servant.) 
And say to her. 

With what a broken-hearted love I press'd her 
For the last time ! — And, Neucles, for my sake 
Be thou a faithful servant when i am gone ! 
Once more — My child too! — O, this is too much ! 
My little orphan ! — My dear boy ! the gods, 
The gods will take my care of thee, my child ! 

{Rushes out, 

ScENB HI. — The exterior of Damon^s Villa. 

Enter Lucdllus. 

Luc. It is achiev'd ! He comes ! in desperate hasto 
He rushes from the garden — Shall I fly 
From the swift fury that will wait upon 
The terrible revealment ? — 'Tis too late! 

Enter Damox. 

Damon. 'Tis o'er, Lucullus — Bring thou forth my 
horse — 
lihave staid too long, Lucullus, and my speed 
Must leave the winds behind me : By the godj«, 
The sun is rushing down the west i 

Luc. My Lord 

Damon. Why dost thou tremble ? Fetch the co- 
lour back 



Act IV] DAMON AND PYTHIAS. St 

Into thy cheek, man, nor let thy weak knees 
Knock on each other in their cowardice ! 
Time files — be brief— g-o bring my horse to met 
Be thou as swift as speech, or as my heart is! 

Ziic. My lord, 

Damon. Why, slave, dost hear me ? 
My horse, I say ! The hour is past already 
"Whereon I bade old Neucles summon me. 

Liic. My .c^enerous master, do not slay me 1 

Damon. Slave ! 
Art mad ? or dost thou mock me in the last 
And fearfullest extremity ?-r-Yet you speak not ! 

Luc. You were ever kind and merciful, nor yet 
Commended me unto the cruel whip, 
And I did love you for it ! 

Damon. Where's my steed ? 

Luc. When I beheld the means of saving" you 
I could not hold my hand — my heart was in it. 
And in my heart, the hope of giving life 
And liberty to Damon; and 

Damon. Go on ! 
T am listening to thee ! 

Lite. And in hope to save you, 
I slew your steed ! 

Damon. Almighty heavens! 

Luc. Forgive me ! 

Damon. 1 am standinghere to see if'the great gods 
Will with their lightning execute my prayer 
Upon thee ! But thy punishment be mine ! 
I'll tear thee into pieces ! (seizes him.) 

Luc. Spare me ! Spare me ! 
'Tis horrible to die ! — I saved thy life, — O do not thou 
take mine ! 

Damon. My friend ! my friend ! O that the word 
would kill thee ! 
Pythias is slain ! — his blood is on my soul ! 
He cries, where art thou, Damon ? Damon, where 

art thou ? 
And Damon's here ! — The axe is o'er bis neck,— 
And in his blood I'm delug'd ! 

Luc. Spare me •' Spare me ! 



52 DAMON AND PYTHIAS. [Act IV 

Damon. A spirit cries, 'Revenge and sacrifice!' 
I'll do it— I'll do it— Come— 

Luc. Where should I go ? 

Damon. To the eternal river of the dead ! 
The way is shorter than to Syracuse, — 
'Tis only far as yonder yawning gulf— 
I'll throw thee with one swing to Tartarus, 
And follow after thee ! — Nay, slave, no struggling ! 
Pythias is grown impatient ! His red ghost 
Starts from the ground, and with a bloody hand 
Waves to the precipice ! 

Luc. Have mercy ! 

Damon. Call 
For mercy on the Furies — not on me ! 

[Exit Damojit dragging Lucullus out. 



ACT V. 

Scene I. — A public Place in Syracuse. — A Scaffold^ 
toith steps ascending to it, upon the right hand — In 
the back of the Stage, the Gates of a prison. — Exe- 
cutioner, -with an Axe^ and Guards discovered. 

Enter Damocles and Pkocles. 

Proc. It is a marvellous fantasy, thou speakest of 
In Dionysius. 

Dam. Yes, his mind is made 
Of strange materials, that are almost cast 
Jn contrariety to one another. 
The school and camp in his ambition make 
A strange division : with the trumpet's call, 
He blends the languor of the poet's lyre ! 
The fierce intrepid captain of the field 
Hath often on the great Athenian stage 
Cop'd with the mightiest monarchs of the Muse, 
And in mine apprehension, he doth prize 
The applauses of that polished populace 
More than the rising shout of victory. 



ActV] DAMON AND PYTHIAS. S3 

Proc. And over all, that science which doth hold 
Touching" the soul and its affections, 
Its high discoursing- hath attracted him. 
It is his creed that in this flesh of ours 
Self ever entertains predominance, 
And to all friendsiiip he hath ever been 
A persevering infidel. For this, 
Belike, he tries a strange experiment. 
"What sayest thou ? Will Damon come again ? 
It urges on the crisis of the danger. 

JDam. Our love of life is in the very instinct 
Of mere material action ! when we do 
Even so slight a thing, as wink an eye 
Against the wind. Place me a soulless dog 
Upon the bare edge of a height, and he 
Shall shudder and shrink back, though none have 

prov'd 
To his capacity that the fall were dangerous. 
I hold the thing impossible. 

Proc. He'll not ? 

Dam. What, when he feels his pent-up soul abroad. 
His limbs unfetter'd, and the mountain-breeze 
Of liberty all around him, and his life 
Or death upon his own free choice dependent ? 
^ Tis visionary ! 

Proc. But is there no hope 
Of Dionysius* mercy ? 

Dam. He'll not give 
A second's hundredth part to take a chance in. 
His indignation swells at such a rashness. 
That in its fling of proud philosophy 
Can make him feel so much out-soar'd and humbled. 
What a vast multitude upon the hills 
Stretch their long blackening outline in the round 
Of the blue heavens ! 

Proc. They wait the great event. 
Mute expectation spreads its anxious hush 
O'er the wide city, that as silent stands 
As its reflection in the quiet sea. 
Behold upon the roof what thousands gaze 
Toward the distant road that leads to Syracuse! 
z2 



54 DAMON AND PYTHIAS. [ActV 

An hour ago a noise was heard afar, 
Like to the pulses of the restless surge ; 
But as the time approaches, all grows still 
As the wide dead of midnight ! 

Calanthe. {Without.) There's no power 
Shall stay me back ! I must behold him die, 
Then follow him ! 

Enter Ca^la:stb^, folloived by Arria. 

Arria. My child ! 

Cal. I cannot hear thee ! 
The shrieking of the Furies drowns thy cries! 

Arria. This is no place for thee — no place,. Calan- 
the, 
For such a one as thou ! 

Cal. No other place 
Is fit for such a wretch ! I am his wife 
Betrothed, though not married. There is no place 
For me but at his side : In life or death 
There is no other. 

There is the scaffold with the block on it ! 
There is the — O, good gods! 

Araia. Come back, my child ! 
Good Damocles, give me your aid to bear 
This wretched woman hence. 

Cal. O, mother, mother, 
I'll not be grudg'd that horrible delight ! 
I'll take & long and maddening look of him, 
Whom in the morning I thought I should have wait- 
ed, 
Blushing within the chamber of a bride, 
And with a heart all full of love and fear. 
Now I await him in a different place. 
And with a cheek that ne'er shall blush again ; 
Whose marble may be spotted o'er with blood. 
But not with modesty : love yet remains. 
But fear its old companion's fled away, 
And made room for despair I 

Enter Dionysius, still in disguise. 

Ha ! are you come ? 



Act V] DAMON AND PYTHIAS. 55 

'Twas you that brought it to me for a guest, 
And froze the running- currents in my bosom 
To one deep cake of ice ! You said too well 
That Damon would not come — The selfish traitor ! 
The traitor Damon ! 

Dion. Hark thee, Calanthe I 
It was an idle tale I told to thee ! 

Cal. Ha ! 

Jjion. A mere coinage, an invention. 

Cal. I do not ask thee why that tale was fram'd,— 
Tram'd in thy cold deliberate cruelty — 
But only this — one question : — May he yet — 
May Damon yet return ? 

JDion. He may— he is 
As free to come, or stay, as are the winds. 

Cal. And Dionysius withholds hira not ? 

Dion. He does not. 

Cal. Whatsoe'er thou art, the gods 
Tor that one word, be unto thee and thine 
Guardians for ever !— O, that ray of hope 
That breaks upon my soul, is worth a flood 
Of the sweet day-light of Elysium ! 
Damon may yet return ! — But, powers of Heaven ! 
Death is prepared already ! — What is the time ! 

Dion. Thou may'st perceive by yonder dial-plate 
Against the temple, six poor minutes only 
Are left for his return. 

Cal. And yet he comes not ! 
O but that temple, where the shade of time 
Moves unrelentingly, is dedicate 
To the great goddess of Fidelity — 
She will not in the face of her high fane 
Let such a profanation hurl for ever 
The altars of her worship to the ground ; 
For who will offer incense to her name 
If Damon's false to Pythias ? Ha ! they unbar 
The ponderous gates !— There is a clank of chams ! 
They are leading him to death I 

Dam. Bring forth the prisoner ■' 



56 DAMON AND PYTHIAS. [ActV 

The gates of the Prison are fiung open, and Ptthias 
is discovered, — He advances. 

Cal. Pythias ! 

Fifth. Calanthe here ! — My poor fond girl I 
Thou art the first to meet me at the block. 
Thou wilt be the last to leave me at the grave 1 
How strangely things go on in this bad world — 
This was my wedding day ; but for the bride, 
I did not think of such a one as death ! 
I deemed I should have gone to sleep to-night, 
This very night — not on the earth's cold lap. 
But, with as soft a bosom for my pillow, 
And with as true and fond a heart-throii in it 
To lull me to my slumber, as e'er yet 
Couch'd the repose of love. — It was, indeed, 
A blissful sleep to wish for ! 

Cal. O, my Pythias, 
He yet may come ! 

Pyth. Calanthe, no ! — Remember 
That Dionysius hath prevented it. 

Cal. That was an idle tale of this old man, 
And he may yet return ! 

Pyth. May yet return ! 
Speak ! — how is this ? return ! — O life, how strong 
Thy love is in the hearts of dying men ! 
Thou art he did'st say the tyrant would prevent 
His coming back to Syracuse. 

Dion. I wrong'd him. 

Pyth. Ha ! were it possible ! — may he yet come ? 

Cat. Into the sinews of the horse that bears him 
Put swiftness, gods ! — let him outrace and shame 
The galloping of clouds upon the storm ! 
Blow breezes with him ; lend every feeble aid 
Unto his motion ! — and thou, thrice-solid earth, 
Forget thy immutable fixedness— become .0tk 

Under his feet like flowing water, and lit 

Hither flow with him ! ^ 

Pyth. I have taken in 
All the horizon's vast circumference 
That in the glory of the setting sun 



ActV] DAMON AND PYTHIAS. 67 

Opens its wide expanse, yet do I see 

No signal of his coming! — Nay, 'tis likely — 

O, no — he could not ! It is impossible I 

Cal. I say, he is false ! he is a murderer ! 
He will not come ! the traitor doth prefer 
Life, ignominious, dastard life ! — Thou minister 
Of light, and measurer of eternity 
In this great purpose, stay thy going down, 
Great sun, behind the confines of the world ! 
On yonder purple mountains make thy stand ! 
For while thine eye is opened on mankind, 
Hope will abide within thy blessed beams — 
They dare not do the murder in thy presence ! 
Alas !'all heedless of my frantic cry. 
He plunges down the precipice of Heaven ! 
Tythias— O, Pythias ! 

Fyth. I could have borne to die 
Unmov'd by Dionysius — but to be torn 
Green from existence by the friend I lov'd, — 
Thus from the blossoming and beauteous tree 
Rent by the treachery of him I trusted ! — 
No ! no ! I wrong thee, Damon, by that half thought, 
Shame on the foul suspicion ! he hath a wife. 
And child, who cannot live on earth without himj 
And heaven has flung some obstacle in his way 
To keep him back, and lets me die who am 
Less worthy, and the fitter. 

Proc. Pythias, advance ! 

Cal. No, no ! why should he yet ? It is not yet- 
By all the gods, there are two minutes only ! 

Proc. Take a last farewell of your mistress, sir. 
And look your last upon the setting sun — 
And do both quickly, for your hour comes on ! 

Fyth. Come here, Calanthe ! closer to me yet !~ 
Ah ! what a cold transition it will be 
From this warm touch all full of life and beauty, 
Unto the clammy mould of the deep grave ! 
i pr'ythee, my Calanthe, when I am gone. 
If thou should'st e*er behold my hapless friend. 
Do not upbraid him ! This, my lovely one, 
Js my last wish — Remember it ! 



58 DAMON AND PYTHIAS. [Act V 

Cal. (PFhOf during' this speech, has been looking 
loildly toioards the side of the stage.) 
Hush! Hush! 
Stand back there ! 

Pyth. Take her, you eternal gods, 
Out of my arms into your own ! — Befriend her! 
And let her life glide on in gentleness, 
For she is gentle, and doth merit it. 

Cal. I think I see it 

Proc. Lead her from the scaflTold ! 

Pyth. Arria, receive her! — yet one kiss— farewell! 
Thrice — thrice — farewell ! — I am ready, sir. 

Cal. Forbear ! 
There is a minute left — look there ! look there ! 
But 'tis so far off, and the evening shades 
Thicken so fast, there are no other eyes 
But mine can catch it — Yet, 'lis there ! I see it— 
A shape as yet so vague and questionable 
'Tis nothing, just about to change and take 
The faintest form of something ! 

Pyth. Sweetest love ! 

I>am. Your duly, officer. 

Cal. I will not quit him 
Until ye prove I see it not ! — no force 
Till then shall separate us. 

Dam. Tear them asunder ? 
Arria, conduct your daughter to her home. 

Cal. O, send me not away — Pythias, thine arms — 

Stretch out thine arms, and keep me! — see, it comes! 

Barbarians ! — Murderers ! — O, yet a moment — 

Yet but one pulse — one heave of breath! (), heavens! 

[_She siooons, and is carried away by Arria and 

Guards. 

Pyth. {To the Execuiioner) 
There is no pang in thy deep wedge of steel 
After that parting. — Nay, sir, you may spare 
Yourself the pains to fit me for the block. — 

[Drawing the lining of his tunic lower. 
Damon, I do forgive thee ! — I but ask 
Some tears unto my ashes ! — 

[A shout is heard — Pythias leaps up on the scaffold. 



Act V] DAMON AND PYTHIAS. 59 

JBy the gods, 

A horse, and horseman ! — Far upon the hill 

They wave their hats, and he returns it — yet 

I know him not— his horse is at the stretch. (.5 shout) 

Why should ihey shout as he comes on ? It is 

No ! — that was too unlike— but there now — there ! 

O, life, I scarcely dare to wish for thee, 

And yet — that jutting rock has hid him fi-om me— 

No ! — let it not be Damon ! — lie has a wife 

And child ! — gods ! keep him buck ! 

Damon (IVil/iOiii) Where is he ? 
I fie rushes in, and stands for a moment^ looking round. 
Ha! 
He is alive ! untouched ! Ha ! ha ! ha ! 

[Falls -loith an hysterical laugh tipon the scaffold, 
(^Loud shouls tviihout.) 

Pyth. The gods lio know I could have died for him! 
And yet I dared to doubt ! — I dared to breathe 
The haU-utler'd blasphemy ! 

(Damon is raised up.) 
He faints !— H%v thick 

This wreath of burning moisture on his brow ! 
His face is black witli toil, liis swelling bulk 
Heaves with swift paiitings — Damon, my clear friend! 

Damon. Where am I ? Have I fallen from my horse. 
That I am stunn'd, and on my head 1 feel 
A weight of thickening blood! — What has befallen 

me ? 
The horrible confusion of a dream 
Is yet upon my sight. — For mercy's sake^ 
Stay me not back — he is about to die ! 
Pythias, my friend ! — Unlo(;se me, villains, or 
You will find the might of madness in mine arm.' 
{Sees Pyih.) Speak to me, let me hear thy voice ! 

J^yih. My friend ! 

Damon. It pierc'd my brain, and rush'd into my 
heart ! 
There's lightning in it ! — That's the scaffold— there 
The block — the axe — the executioner ! 
And here he lives! — I have him in my soul ! 
{Embracea Pythias.) Ha! ha! ha! 



60 DAMON AND PYTHIAS. [ActV 

Pyth. Damon ! 

Damon. Ha ! ha ! 
I can but laugh 1 — I cannot speak to thee ! 
I can but play the maniac, and laugh ! 

Thy hand ! — O, let me grasp thy manly hand !- 

It is an honest one, and so is mine ! 

They are fit to clasp each other ! Ha ! ha ! ha ! 

Pyth. Would that my death could have preserv'd 
thee ! 

Damon. Pythias, 
Even in the very crisis to have come,-— 
To have hit the very forehead of old time ! 
By heavens ! had I arrived an hour before, 
I should not feel this agony of joy, — 
This triumph over Dionysius ! 
Ha ! ha ! — But did'st thou doubt me ? Come, thou 

did'st— 
Own it, and I'll forgive. 

Pyth. For a moment. 

Damon. O that false slave ! — Pythias, he slew my 
horse, 

In the base thought to save me ! I would have kill'd 

him. 
And to a precipice was dragging him, 
When from the very brink of the abyss 
I did behold a traveller afar, 
Bestriding a good »teed — I rush'd upon him ; 
Choking with desperation, and yet loud 
In shrieking anguish, I commanded him 
Down from his saddle : he denied me — but 
Would I then be denied ? as hungry tigers 
Clutch their poor prey, I sprung upon his throat. 
Thus, thus I had him, Pythias ! 

Dion, {advancing.) Damon ! 

Damon. I am here upon the scaffold ; look at me : 
I am standing on my throne ; as proud a one 
As yon illumin'd mountain, where the sun 
Makes his last stand : let him look on me too ; 
He never did behold a spectacle 
More full of natural glory. Death is — Ha ! 
All Syracuse starts up upon her hills, 



ActVj DAMON AND PYTHIAS. 61 

And lifts her hundred thousand hands. She shouts. 
Hark, how she shouts ! (shouts heard.) O, Dionysius, 
When wert thou in thy life hail'd with a peal 
Of hearts and hands like that one ? Shout again ! 
'Again, until the mountains echo you, 
And the great sea joins in that mighty voice, 
^^ And old Enceladus, the son of earth, 
' Stirs in his mighty caverns. Tell me, slaves, 
^ Where is your tyrant ! Let me see him now ; 
^ Why stands he hence aloof? Where is your master? 
^ What is become of Dionysius ? 
'^ I would behold, and laugh at him. 

(DioNTSius advances bcttveen Damon and Py- 
thias, — Damon being on the scaffold, — and 
throws off his disguise.) 
Dion. Behold me. 
Damon and Pyth. How? 
Dion. Stay your admiration for awhile. 
Till I have spoken my commandment here. 
Go, Damocles, ai^ bid a herald cry 
Wide through the city, from the eastern gato 
Unto tlie most remote extremity, 
That Dionysius, tyrant as he is. 
Gives back his life to Damon. [s^it Damoclete 

Pyth. How, Dionysius ? 
Speak that again. 
Dion. I pardon him. 
^. , Pyth. O, gods ! 

You give his life to Damon ? 
Dion. Life and freedom. 
Damon remains mute -with astonishment upon the 

scaffold.) 
Pyth. O, Dionysius ! O, my sovereign ! Life 
And freedom ! Let me fall down at your feet. 
And open all the sluices of my heart 
In one wild gush of weeping gratitude ! 
O, Damon ! (Damon continues motionless,) 

Dion. Almighty virtue, 
Now do I own and worship thee. I see 
The glorious spark which the Eternal one 
Struck from himself into tho soul of roan. 
P 



62 DAMON AND PYTHIAS. [Act V 

Blaze up Into such excelling majesty. 
It awes, while it illumes my heart. What hoa ! 
How, Damon, is it with thee? Come, descend : 
Let me conduct thee from this place of death. 
Into the bosom of your friend. 

Pyth. O, Damon ! 

Bamon. Pythias — good Dionysius — no, I cannot ; , 
Lend me your hand, good Pythias — I could weep. j 
{they take each other's handsy and remain looking av\ 
each other.) 

Dion. Until this wond'roushourl walk'd in error. 
And liv'd in darkness. Either my heart was born 
Blind to the light of virtue, or some film 
Hath crept upon its fine susceptibility. 
Pythias, 'twas I that visited your dungeon, 
To put youmaith unto the test ; and one thing 
Hath griev'd me in its issue — your old father — 

I'yth. He is dead ? 

Dio7i. The shock was terrible. 

Pyth. The earth 
Lie lightly on his bosom. 

Dio7i, But here is 
The loveliest face that ever yet was worn 
By consolation. 

Enter Calahthb. 

Cat. O, my Pythias I 

Pyth. Calanthe ! 

CaL My dear husband! 

Pyth. Thou hast heard all ? 

Cal. Yes — through the city a loud voice goes forth» 
Of gratitude, and piety, and exultation. 

Daman. Pythias ! O, Dionysius ! I did not 
In the wild wonder of recover'd life 
Appreciate the blessing ; but it rushes 
Now full and deep in one wide gush of joys 
Bursts in one tide of exultation. 
Oh, Pythias ! the thought 
Of Hermion is at my heart, and I 
Cannot hold back these tears. 

Dien. Damon and Pvthias, 



i 



Act V] DAMON AND PYTHIAS. (53 

You have rewarded me : I now begin 

To taste of pleasures never touch'd before. 

Perfect the work you have begun, 

And I myself, by the continued light 

Of your example, may at last essay 

To tread such wond'rous ways of virtue with you. 



fthe curtain falla.J 



¥B8 EKV, 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 



014 386 036 n 



